


Stirb Nicht

by kriegderseele (brokenAmphora)



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenAmphora/pseuds/kriegderseele
Summary: Blitzwing and Megatron are human officers in a future, earth-based international alliance to destroy the oppressive global superpowers (so, basically, Decepticons vs Autobots). But politics isn't what concerns them most; it's whether they can survive the war long enough to be with each other and maintain a relationship at the end of it.





	

“ _One of the pitfalls of childhood is that one doesn't have to understand something to feel it. By the time the mind is able to comprehend what has happened, the wounds of the heart are already too deep.”_

― Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Sigi was nine years old when every news station and website broadcast the breaking news with a sense of urgency. Slouched beside his father on the couch in their cozy living room, he looked up from the tablet-based strategy game he and his father were playing and tried to hand over the tablet.

"Papa, ist jour turn...papa?"

His father chittered softly and held his hand up, transfixed by the news. Sigi didn't always understand what caused his father to furrow his brow so intently, though he was old enough to understand that his father was distressed when he made that face.

Sigi's notoriously short attention span brought him back to the tablet in his hands. Behind him, his mother finished bustling about in the kitchen to listen in.

"Simultaneous attacks on foreign embassies--"

"--major international oil company offices destroyed--"

"--riots in all major cities--"

"--death toll climbing--"

"--intelligence agencies launching immediate investigation--"

"--demonstrations in last few months believed to be the cause of these attacks--"

"--perpetrators are still at large, we recommend everyone stay indoors--"

The mother and father shared worried glances while their son innocently played his game. Living in the more quiet, suburban areas of their city had its advantages, but in more recent years, people have become more thorough with their demonstrations. An influx of foreign powers in the last year alone had come to spread fear and hate, bringing ammunition with intent to raid and harm anyone who protested their influence over various global resources.

Little Sigi, of course, was oblivious to all of this. Being the typical nine year old, he would prefer to play games with his parents. Only, just as the laws of childhood innocence demand self-centrism, so do the laws of adulthood dictate situational awareness.

Outside, people began infiltrating the suburban areas tucked around the city. Gunshots echoed throughout their neighborhood. Both parents switched into high gear when they heard people outside their neighbor's door.

"Take Sigi upstairs!" The father commanded of the mother, who hauled her son over the back of the couch and ran upstairs to hide.

Sigi reached after him and told his mother to wait, wait, his tablet had fallen to the floor! But his mother stopped for nothing and rushed up the stairs with her son in tow, all but slamming the bedroom door behind her once they were inside. She locked it and grabbed the letter opener from her writing desk, returning to Sigi and wrapping her large arms around him.

"By zhe gods I swear zhese bastards vill never touch my son," she growled.

Sigi jolted as he heard a loud noise downstairs; the front door being kicked in. A fight broke out in their narrow foyer. He heard his father yelling, and a pit formed in his stomach where all the aloofness and butterflies of youth usually were.

Two gunshots echoed downstairs. Sigi's mother gasped, but stood firmly between her son and the door, lest the invaders come upstairs.

A few minutes of trembling silence passed, and then footsteps shuffled their way up the creaky wooden stairs. A soft knock at the door. "Antonia?"

"Levi!" Sigi's mother unlocked the door, and opened it to find her husband nursing a wound on his shoulder. "Mein gott vhat did they do to you?"

"I am fine, liebe. They are gone now."

Sigi stared in shock at the fresh blood dripping from his father's shoulder, staining the rolled up sleeves and forming streams down the hand that beckoned him over. "It is okay, Sigi. Come here."

Sigi took baby steps towards his parents, pressing his head into his father's belly and welcoming the protective embrace. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried his nine year old best to understand what just happened.

Together, they went downstairs, where signs of struggle remained. Broken glass, cracked frames, blood splatter on the walls where the invaders were shot by his father's gun, now tucked behind him in his pants. They cleaned the foyer walls and picked up the broken pieces strewn across the floor, and all the while, the news station gave live reports of the turmoil within their beloved country.

While his mother cleaned his father's wound, Sigi sank into the couch, staring into space as the news reported the estimated death tolls. His eyes drifted to the screen as each number per city was announced.

The number was in the tens of thousands, and climbing.

Sleep did not come easy that night when Sigi and his family finally went to bed, and for once it was not because he was playing with his tablet, which his mother placed on his desk, but lay forgotten. All Sigi could see whether he closed or opened his eyes were the terrible acts on the screen and the violence he experienced tonight in his own home. Just before he succumbed to the gentle rolling thunder of Thor's protective cloak, an angry and determined seed planted itself in the core of his spirit.

Miles away, a young military officer leads his men into what would become the first of many major offensives to come in defense of their country. Their success is not without casualties, but they are heralded as heroes, and the young officer's leadership serves as a beacon to his country and many others facing this tyranny. He climbs atop a car and he and his men raise their guns above their head, their war cry ringing throughout the land.

_Rise up!_

 


End file.
